Holding Your Scarred Heart in Hand
by Batsutousai
Summary: Five times Roy answered the phone when Maes called, despite his terrible timing, and the one time he missed him.


**Title:** _Holding Your Scarred Heart in Hand_  
 **Fandom:** _Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood_ /manga  
 **Author:** Batsutousai  
 **Rating:** Teen  
 **Pairings:** Maes Hughes  & Roy Mustang  
 **Warnings:** Canon character death, PTSD  
 **Summary:** Five times Roy answered the phone when Maes called, despite his terrible timing, and the one time he missed him.

 **Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Arakawa Hiromu and various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. One scene taken directly from the manga.

 **A/N:** For day 7 of Hyuroi Week on tumblr. Today's prompt is _Phone Call_.

Forewarning: The +1 is a _killer_. *is shot*

You can also read this at Archive of Our Own, tumblr, or LiveJournal.

-One-

The shrill ring of his phone yanked him out of a perfectly good dream involving things better not mentioned where children might overhear. He almost turned over and ignored it, but his battlefield-born 'jump to fully awake and completely skip anything in-between' default had activated, and he groaned and rolled off his couch.

If this wasn't important, he was going to kill whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Mustang," he said as he picked up the receiver, leaning against the wall and trying not to yawn.

 _"Roy,"_ Maes breathed, so quiet Roy almost thought he was imagining things, _"Roy, I need you to come here. Now."_

"Hughes, do you know what time it is?" Roy complained, accidentally looking at the clock on the mantle.

03:30. Dammit.

 _"It's never too early for them to start shooting,"_ Maes whispered back, and a chill went down Roy's spine. _"There's one out there right now. Can't get a good shot around my cover, but you should be able to get 'im if you're really, really quiet."_

Roy let out a breath in slow shudders, because he knew what this was, had heard the stories of soldiers who caught the crazy in the battlefield and then brought it home. And, of the two of them, he'd always assumed it would be _him_ , not Maes, that broke. "Maes," he said as calmly as he could manage, "do you have your gun?"

 _"Yes, of_ course _I have my gun,"_ Maes hissed back, irritated.

"Is it loaded?"

He heard the sound of Maes checking, then, _"Yup. Full round."_

Of course it was. Roy swallowed. "Okay. I need you to trust me and take all the bullets out."

 _"But they–!"_

"I know," Roy interrupted, walking as far as the phone cord would let him go and stretching out his foot to hook his boots so he could drag them close enough to grab and start putting them on. "I know, but there's too many of them, okay? If you shoot one, the others will get you before we can extract you. So I need you to hold tight and trust me, okay? I will be _right there_."

There was a long silence on the other end, and Roy closed his eyes and almost started mouthing prayers, because if Maes started shooting civilians, they would lock him up without a trial; the military wasn't kind to soldiers who went crazy.

And then the gun clicked open again and bullets pinged lightly together. _"Come fast. They're close,"_ Maes whispered, and he sounded _terrified_.

But he was trusting Roy. He'd called him instead of just going off, and now he was trusting him to get to him and get him to safety.

"Four minutes," Roy choked out, and tossed the receiver back at the cradle without caring if it made it back in, barely remembering to grab his coat and keys as he slammed out of his flat and started running.

There was a guy smoking in the hallway about two feet from Maes' door, and Roy made an urgent 'come here' motion with his hand from the far end. When the guy reached him, frowning, Roy hissed, "I find out you're smoking in the hallway again, I'll hand your arse over to the police for fire code violation."

The guy went pale, swallowed, and stubbed out his cigarette before pushing his way into one of the flats about three down from Maes'.

Roy took a shaky breath – that was one problem taken care of – then started down the hallway. At Maes' door, he crouched down, gave a quiet knock, then murmured, "It's me."

Maes' door pulled open just enough to let him in, and almost shut on Roy's coat behind him. When he looked at Maes, his eyes were wide behind his glasses and he was breathing hard, holding tight to one of his knives.

"Do you know me?" he asked quietly.

Maes gave a jerky nod. "Roy." He licked his lips, then added, "I think– I think they left. Right before you got here."

"They did," Roy agreed, reaching forward and gently starting to pry the weapon from Maes' hand. "I had to wait a minute to watch them clear out. You did a good job hiding from them, Captain."

Maes was starting to relax a bit, his shoulders slumping. "Yeah. No casualties."

"Exactly," Roy agreed, finally freeing the knife and setting it aside. "We're going to stay right here for a little bit, though, okay? They think this area is clear, which give us the advantage."

"Right," Maes agreed.

"Here." Roy motioned him closer while he sat back against the wall. "You look tired. Why don't I take watch while you get some sleep?"

"I...suppose I could use some sleep," Maes admitted, his eyes going a little distant.

"Come here," Roy said again, motioning him closer.

Maes shuffled over and curled up at his side, casting the door a distrustful look.

"I've got you," Roy whispered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and squeezing.

Maes' head dropped down onto his shoulder. "I know you do. 'S why I called you. You never let me down. Never will."

Roy swallowed and leant his head back against the wall, blinking back surprised tears.

As Maes dozed off, Roy silently swore he would never ignore a call from Maes, no matter how late it was.

-Two-

The phone was already ringing when he stepped into his flat, exhausted from another long day of smiling for the brass, and the _last_ thing Roy wanted was to answer the bloody thing, but there was only one person who was in the habit of calling him at odd hours, and he'd already promised never to ignore those calls. So he sighed, rubbed a hand over his face, and picked up the receiver, saying, "Hughes, if this isn't important, I'm coming over there and burning your phone."

There was a moment of silence on the other end, just long enough that Roy started to worry it _wasn't_ Maes, and then his idiot of a best friend said, _"Actually, that could work out really well. The you coming over part, not the burning my phone which, actually, can you_ do _that? Isn't there a degree of metal in the casing–?"_

"Are you suggesting I can't melt metal?" Roy shot back as he set about kicking off his boots.

 _"I...hope you realise I'm terrified, now. Thank you for that."_

"You're welcome. I'm not coming over there."

 _"But_ Roy _! I need your expert fashion advice!"_

"What you _need_ is a kick to the head, which I will be happy to provi– Wait." Roy pulled the receiver away from his ear for a moment to give it a suspicious look, then put it back to ask, "Since when have _you_ been interested in _my_ fashion expertise? For _that_ matter, since when have you thought so highly of my sense of fashion?"

Maes coughed. _"I need something that goes with an engagement ring?"_

Roy blinked a couple times in disbelief, because Maes had _joked_ about proposing a couple times, but he hadn't realised he was _serious_. "I'm a little hurt that you didn't tell me sooner," he admitted, because, as much as Maes nattered on about Gracia, Roy would have thought he'd have slipped that in there somewhere before the night of.

 _"It was kind of last minute,"_ Maes said, sounding somehow both sullen and apologetic. _"I saw the perfect ring on the way home and knew it had to be tonight."_

Roy shook his head in belief. "Your brain is a terrifying place."

 _"You always say that."_

"Possibly because it's true."

Maes laughed, the sound only a little strained.

Roy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Maes," he said as gently as he could, "Gracia already knows you have a terrible sense of fashion, but she's still going out with you, so she probably finds it charming or something weird and inexplicable."

 _"Have I told you recently that you're the worst best friend ever?"_ Maes commented, but the strain that Roy hadn't even noticed in his voice until that moment had eased a fair bit.

"Possibly," Roy said with a shrug, because Maes complained about their friendship nearly as often as Roy, himself, did. "If you try changing your style now, she's going to know something's up." Not that she wouldn't figure him out in a heartbeat anyway, but Roy wasn't going to point _that_ out, in case it led to Maes trying to involve him in some other way. "So your best bet is to wear the same thing you always wear."

 _"I..."_ Maes was quiet for a moment, then he said, _"Thank you. I'll call you when I get home with the update."_

"Please don't!" Roy called, but Maes had already hung up.

When he called back three hours later, practically screaming, _"She said_ _ **yes**_ _! Can you believe it?!"_ Roy answered the call from the chair he'd brought over to sit next to the phone.

And he smiled and said, completely honestly, "I knew she would."

Maes, of course, had to give him the play-by-play, and Roy let him, because sometimes he could be a good best friend.

-Three-

 _"Roy!"_ Maes cried before Roy could even bring the receiver to his ear. _"I'm so glad I caught you!"_

Roy gave the phone a suspicious look, then asked, "How did you know I'd just plugged this in?"

There was a very long pause on the other end.

Roy sighed and covered his eyes. "Hughes, please tell me you didn't look up the number for my new flat the minute I told you what it was, and have been ringing it since I got on the train."

 _"I waited until the schedule said your train should have got in at East City, actually."_

"I'm hanging up."

 _"But I haven't talked to you in_ forever _! I'm_ pining _!"_

"You're insane," Roy retorted, "which isn't even vaguely related, so don't try it."

 _"Insane people are entitled to their pining."_

"I wish I'd never plugged the phone in."

Maes let out an over-the-top gasp. _"You_ wound _me! Tragically deep cut. I'll bleed out on the floor and no one will ever know."_

Roy rolled his eyes. "You have a fiancé and a job; trust me, someone will notice."

 _"Oh! I should tell you about our date!"_ Maes realised, and Roy almost cried, because he'd done it to _himself_ that time.

He ended up having to stand through almost twenty minutes of Maes' play-by-play of Gracia's every action, ignoring Roy's attempts to get him to shut up, as well as his threats of hanging up, probably because Roy never went through with them. (He needed to work on that.)

Somehow, Maes got him talking about the train ride and the drive to his new flat, making sympathetic noises at his complaints and laughing at the good parts.

By the time Roy managed to say a proper goodbye and hang up, he was grinning, and the task of unpacking didn't seem nearly so daunting as it had done. Which, if he was being honest – which he tried not to be too often, especially when Maes was involved – that had been the entire reason he'd plugged in the phone to begin with.

-Four-

"I hope you realise," Roy said as soon as he picked up the receiver, "that if I miss my train, it's completely your fault."

 _"Shit. Bye. See you at the station. Soon. Very, very– I am hanging up now."_

"Deep breaths, Hughes," Roy said with a laugh. "It's _just_ your wedding."

And then he hung up and grabbed his suitcase as he raced out the door, trying not to be too delighted about making Maes hyperventilate a bit.

And if Maes punched him when they met up on the platform, then yanked him into a hug, well...

Roy could hardly blame him.

-Five-

Weekends, Roy had decided, were the best thing to happen to mankind. Because, on weekends, he got to sleep in, and there was no paperwork, and Riza and her gun lived on the other side of town, where he could avoid them both all day.

He was quite happily in the 'I just saw that my alarm would have gone off by now, normally, so I shall smile drowsily at the world and go back to sleep' portion of the morning, when the phone started ringing.

He considered just ignoring it, but the only reasons someone would be calling him _this_ early on a weekend, was if it was an emergency. Or, possibly, Maes needing him to come and shoot him, which Roy just might do if it _was_ his best friend.

So, moaning a bit at his luck, Roy dragged himself out of bed and picked up the receiver. "Mustang," he muttered.

 _"Roy,"_ Maes breathed, too excited to be having another flashback, which was good, because Roy was too far away to effectively calm him down again, _"she's_ beautiful _."_

Roy blinked a few times as he attempted to process those words in a way that made sense, before finally giving up and deadpanning, "Drinking this early in the morning is supposed to be _my_ bad habit."

 _"We're going to name her Elicia,"_ Maes added, apparently deciding to ignore Roy.

Roy was about to repeat his previous comment – or maybe just threaten to hang up – when it hit him what Maes was talking about, and the rush of delight woke him up properly. "Gracia gave birth?" he breathed.

 _"Yes!"_ Maes crowed, and Roy couldn't tell if he was happy that he'd finally cottoned on, or just generally high on life.

Honestly, he wasn't certain he cared. "Congratulations!" he said, truly meaning it. Only partially because it meant no more panicked phone calls at work where Maes was worrying about Gracia giving birth while he was stuck in the office, or how he'd be a terrible father, or whatever weird thing Maes felt the need to freak out about that afternoon.

 _"I called you first,"_ Maes admitted, and Roy couldn't even _pretend_ to be surprised. _"You have to come and meet her. She's_ beautiful _."_

He still had a little bit of leave left over, after the wedding, which _should_ be enough to get to Central, coo over the new baby for an appropriate amount of time, get irritated with Maes being a sickeningly good father, and flee back to East City. And, if not, he doubted Grumman or Riza would begrudge him an extra day or two. Not for this.

So he agreed, "I will. Soon."

 _"Today?"_ Maes asked hopefully.

Roy rolled his eyes. "Not _that_ soon."

 _"Tomorrow? I'll have pictures by then!"_

He should probably get a medal for _not_ groaning. " _Spare me_ ," he insisted.

Maes, of course, cackled. And it was a high-pitched, vaguely panicky sort of noise, and Roy was a little embarrassed that _that_ was what tipped him off to the fact that Maes needed him there for reasons other than showing off his new daughter.

"Maes," he said quietly, gently. "I need you to breath with me for a minute, okay?"

 _"Okay,"_ Maes agreed, and lasted about three and a half breaths, before bursting out with, _"Have I told you how beautiful they both are?!"_

"I'll be there tonight," Roy promised.

 _"You're my best friend ever. I just need you to know that,"_ Maes insisted.

"And you're my favourite headache," Roy retorted, making Maes laugh a bit high and panicky again. "Maes, go sit with Gracia, okay? And take _lots of deep breaths_ ; everything will be _fine_ , I promise."

 _"Roy?"_ Maes whispered before he could hang up.

"Maes?"

 _"Thank you."_

"Any time."

-Plus One-

Roy really just wanted to go home, but between the continued search for Scar in the rubble – just because popular opinion had him dead, didn't mean they could slack off – and Maes' suggestion that he might be seeing Central on a more permanent basis _very soon_ , meant he was putting in a lot of long hours. Given the pile of papers on his desk, it was going to be at least another hour before he could go home, so he stepped out to get some coffee and relieve his bladder. Only to get caught in the hallway by a warrant officer who was leaving for the day and had just about to leave some things in his office for him.

Not crying was a real struggle.

The phone was ringing when he made it back to his empty office, and he tried not to sigh as he walked over and picked up the receiver. "Mustang," he said.

 _"There's a call for you on an outside line from Lieutenant Colonel Hughes,"_ the switch operator said.

Roy groaned. "Hughes _again_?" he complained, because he'd only _just_ talked to him. Still, it could be important, and he'd promised, so he said, "Put him through."

As soon as it clicked through, before Maes could start nattering about Elicia's birthday again, Roy said, "It's me. I don't want to hear any more about your family!"

The line was utterly silent.

"Hughes?" Roy tried, a chill going down his spine, because if there was one thing Maes Hughes _wasn't_ , it was quiet. "Hughes, hey!" A little louder, in case he'd heard something and gone for his gun.

Still nothing. Not even the sound of Gracia trying to talk Maes down, or Maes' breathing.

"Hughes!" Roy shouted into the phone, panic spreading like ice through his veins. " _Hughes_!"

.


End file.
